Entanglement
by VacantVisage
Summary: While in a duel Bellatrix Lestrange, a spell connects their wands, back firing on Harry, sending him to 1943. The year that Tom Marvolo Riddle was a 5th year at Hogwarts. Warning: HPTMR SLASH Time Travel
1. The problem about problems

Harry had a problem. 

A real problem, not one of those silly ones like trying to come up with an excuse for forgetting your ex-girlfriend/best friend's little sister's birthday or which plan to go through with when you come face to face with the very man who killed your mentor or forgetting where you placed the last horcrux you recently found.

No. His currently problem wasn't anything near as terrible as those. Nothing could describe how horrid, how unbelievably unlucky his current situation was.

For Harry Potter had just dueled with Bellatrix Lestrange when their wands connected for a short moment before rebounding, throwing Harry back into a wall. Now, the bad part isn't the fact that he was dueling Bellatrix, no it was that fact that something happened to _him _when the spell backfired. Because suddenly, everything was quiet. Very very quiet, inappropriately quiet... and clean.

The scorch marks from the battle before were gone, the portraits in the torrider were occupied and Bellatrix Lestrange, the rest of the Death Eaters, nor the Order were anywhere in sight.

Harry, severely injured, made his way to the room of requirement (blood trailing behind him). Now this is where his problem propped up. This is where his luck had run out.

Why? Because he ran into non other than the one, the only, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He literally ran into the Dark Lord, right into his chest. But Voldemort didn't look like he did the last time he met him. No, because Voldemort looked young and as handsome as he did when he was in his 7th year, if not a little younger.

Harry's eyes grew comically big. He stared into the dark eyes of his arch-nemesis. He staggered back.

"Wha-"

"You ought to get to the Hospital Wing, did you get attacked by one of Professor Kettleburn's manticores?" Riddle asked, tilting his head in amusement while examining Harry's form.

Harry stared wide-eyed at him. Did Voldemort not recognize him, did he some how mess up what ever potion that gave him back his former body and lose his memory with it?

Riddle's eyes narrowed. "You're not wearing a Hogwarts uniform, are you even a student here?"

Harry continued to stare, dumbly.

Riddle let out an exasperated sigh, "Obviously not or else you wouldn't be staring at me so much." He raised his wand at Harry. "Perhaps I should get the headmaster?"

This snapped Harry out of his stupor, he pushed passed the much younger looking dark lord and ran (in massive amounts of pain) to the Room of Requirement.

"I need someplace safe from Voldemort, I need some place to heal." He chanted under his breath as he sprinted down the hall. He burst through the door, turning around attempting to push the it closed. Harry stumbled back, landing on a hospital bed that appeared behind him.

Riddle entered the room, a smug and amused look on his face.

"You really thought you could get away? You're on the 7th floor, what are you going to do, jump out a window?"

Riddle glanced around, a confused expression fluttering across his face before disappear just as fast as it had appeared. He picked up a bottle of a healing potion from a shelf on the wall, examining it. "Interesting room you have here."

"Er..." Harry didn't know what to say, Voldemort was acting very... odd.

Riddle raised an eyebrow at him, collecting several potion vials before turning to Harry, slamming into what felt and looked like a glass wall. He scowled at the clear wall before fixing a glare at Harry.

"Do you want to die or do you want me to help you?" He spat.

"Yeah right you'll just march right up and kill me."

"Oh please, would you really think I'd do that with a school full of teachers."

Harry raised an eyebrow, nodding. "Yes, actually I do."

Riddle let out a growl, his face fixed in a glare. "If I did, do you really think that a simple barrier would stop the killing curse?"

The bastard had a point. Harry let out a sigh, the translucent wall between them disappearing. "Fine."

Harry took the potion vials that Riddle gave him in order, downing them with a grimace on his face.

"Take off you robes and that hideous turtleneck." Riddle said as he took a healing salve off a shelf.

"Wh-what?"

Riddle looked back, his styled sable hair falling in front of his dark eyes. "I said take off your robes."

"Take off my robes, but why?" He asked nervously. He didn't want Voldemort to see all the scars that _they _had inflicted, his muggle relatives, the Death Eaters and Snake Face himself. Because he was pretty sure, no definitely sure that Voldemort would point, laugh, and then pat himself on his back for doing a job well done. And Harry didn't think he could handle that much humiliation right now.

Tom smirked, "So I can have my wicked way with you." His face fell when he noticed that the other boy seemed to have taken him seriously at that. He rolled his eyes.

"That was a joke, what do you think?" Tom held up a jar of healing salve, "I'd like to apply this to your remaining wounds, so that we can get to... the questions quicker."

Questioning, right, of course there was a catch to this whole Voldemort helping out poor wittle Harry Potter. He wanted to know about the Order, and how many/ which horcruxes he and his friends have acquired and destroyed.

Harry tore the jar from Tom's hold, limping towards the back of the room, where a privacy curtain appeared. Harry was about to move behind it to apply the healing salve when he heard the door knob rattle behind him. Both teens whipped around, to find a much younger (to Harry at least) Professor Dumbledore entering the room.

* * *

Ok so, basically this is my first hp fan fiction and the er... 8th story I've ever written? Actually this is my first fan fiction ever. Yeah I just picked up writing this school year. So bear with me, I'm learning how to do this narrative thing, and any pointers would be cool.

So should I continue? This was actually a spur of the moment story, so suggestions would be cool, and I'd like to keep it a Harry/ Tom story, there aren't enough of those out there. :(


	2. Grading Papers

OMG, wow 14 reviews. I wasn't expecting that many, maybe 2 or 3.. but 14?! And such wonderful reviews too! Thanks for all the reviews. And for those who asked questions or said something that made me want to say something back:

HolstFanatic: Tom doesn't know Harry, Harry thinks Tom knows him, because Harry thinks he's still in 1997. He's just paranoid. And Tom's too curious for his own good.

Aryn Riddle: You're English is good! Though I don't know if I should be one to talk about English skills, since it is not my first language and I'm still learning it.

Shadowama: Harry's abuse won't be too extreme. So no rape or sexual stuff on the Dursley's part.

Kirril: I hope this chapter answers your questions!

HentaiZaru: Your computer obviously has a abused Harry fetish. Plus it adds to Harry's character makes him more lovable. (In my opinion at least.)

Snakefever: Marysue?? What is that? English is not my first language so it's terrible and I have yet to learn all of these English terms. (According to my school I'm at a 9th grade reading and writing level in English.) I hope this chapter won't disappoint you.

Again, thank you, all of you. :D

This chapter is mainly just Harry and Dumbledore. Don't worry, Tom will come back in the next chapter and there will be some interaction with Harry in it.

* * *

Now Harry's current situation is an example of why people should always have an alias or two in mind. But Harry being the reckless Gryffindor that he is, has never considered it. So this only added to his terrible, terrible problem. Why? Because if you don't have one then some one will pick one out for you. And chances are, it will be an embarrassing name. 

Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Transfiguration Professor and Deputy Headmaster had been taking a stroll trough the castle during his free hour when he happened upon a bloodied wall and a trail of blood.

"Curious..." He turned to the nearest portrait. "Excuse me, Madam."

The portrait of a frizzy haired, dark skinned woman looked up from her knitting, "What?" She asked, annoyed at having to been interrupted.

"Did you have happen to see what this came from." Dumbledore continued on respectfully.

"A boy." She stated, returning to her knitting, finding Professor Dumbledore to be, well boring.

"A boy?"

"Yes, a boy!" She didn't look up from her work while saying this. "He suddenly apparated here, gave me quite a shock, made me make a mistake, I had to start all over again!"

"Apparated, here?" Dumbledore followed the trail of blood with his eyes before turning back to the portrait.

"Yes, yes. Then that charming Slytherin boy, Tom came along and took care of him."

"Slytherin boy Tom? Do you mean Tom Riddle, Madam?"

"What are you a parrot? Yes, yes. You better hurry off, the boy was quite injured, I doubt Tom will be able to fix him all by himself."

Dumbledore heaved a sigh before following the drying trail of blood which led to a door of which he was quite sure was not there before today. He eyed the door suspiciously, trying to decide weather or not to go in alone or call for back up from the staff.

No he had to go in. A student was in there with the stranger (who could possibly be on of Grindlewald's men.) and could be in grave danger. Although said student was Tom Riddle, and he didn't trust the young man, not one little bit. Actually, he'd have more trust in the stranger than in Tom. If he couldn't trust Tom with his life, he most certainly wouldn't trust Tom with another's life, no matter who that other person could be.

Albus braced himself, opening the door and stepping in. He caught sight of Tom and a very shocked raven haired boy (whom looked quite familiar) with cuts and bruises.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" Tom said taking a step forward towards his Transfiguration teacher.

"I found him out in the corridor, terribly injured, he ran in this direction and found this room, which lucky for him was a..." He looked around trying to think of what to call the room. "Medical storage room."

Dumbledore stared at the shocked raven hair boy, trying to figure out who he is. He could have sworn he knew the boy from some where.

"I helped heal him." Tom added quickly when he the elder wizard did respond immediately.

"Yes, of course Tom, ten points to Slytherin for helping a injured visitor." Dumbledore said, turning his gaze to the 5th year Slytherin. "Now, would you mind telling me what you're doing out of class?"

"It's my free hour, Professor."

"Oh yes, of course!" Dumbledore smiled. "Well off you go then, enjoy your free time and let me deal with this."

"Do you know him, Professor?" Inquired Tom, looking back at Harry who was just now coming back into reality.

"Yes, he's a distant relative." Dumbledore lied easily, "I haven't seen him in such a long time that it took me a while to recognize him. Now off you go, my boy."

Tom narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore, noticing how he never mentioned the other boy's name. "Good afternoon, Professor." He said, giving Harry a curious glance before leaving.

The moment Tom Riddle had left, Professor Dumbledore had taken his wand out, keeping it in a loose, relaxed grip. He advanced closer to the dumbfounded boy in front of him who was currently making a very good imitation of a fish out of water.

"Wh-who are you!?!" Harry yelled out.

"Why, my boy, shouldn't I be the one asking that? After all you came here uninvited." Dumbledore paused, noticing Harry's eyes switched from him to the jar of healing salve and back to him. "Attacking a Professor, especially when you are not a student here is unacceptable and can even get you a night's stay in Azkaban."

"You're not a professor here!" Harry spat out, "The real Professor Dumbledore is dead! He has been so for months! I watched him die!"

Dead? Now that was ridiculous. He knew well that he was well and alive. What in the world was this boy talking about?

"The real Professor Dumbledore? Why my boy I assure you that I am the only Professor Dumbledore that I know of. Though I do share my last name with my brother, whom I know to be alive and is not a professor."

A variety of emtions flashed across the boy's face: confusion, anger, and lastly hopefulness.

"Then- Then prove it?!" Harry yelled, "Prove to me that you're the real Professor Dumbledore and not one of Voldemort's idiot Death Eaters!"

Dumbledore did not flinch when Harry had said the Dark Lord's name, nor did he lash out at Harry for speaking it. Which had Harry a little relieved. Perhaps he wasn't a Death Eater. Perhaps this really was Dumbledore?

"Very well, and how should I prove this to you, Mister..."

"My name's Harry Potter."

"Potter? So you are related to the Potters, but I must say Jack is unmarried and a bit young for a son, and Johnathan only had one son..." Dumbledore muttered, more so to himself.

"Err what?"

"Never mind, my boy." Dumbledore said his eyes twinkling madly. "Now, If I prove to you that I am the only Albus Dumbledore, or the only Dumbledore that this school has hired as a Professor, then you will tell me how you managed to apparate into Hogwarts."

"Apparate? I didn't-"

"Oh but the portraits said you did."

"The portraits?" Harry remembered the clean corridor, and the occupied portraits. "They- they're back and- and are you really Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore took the healing salve out of Harry's hands and began leading him towards the door.

"I do believe so." Dumbledore opened the door and gently pushed Harry out. "Unless some brilliant wizard has happened to discovered a way to create another me-"

"Like cloning?" Harry began following Dumbledore down the corridor.

"Cloning?"

"A muggle thing, or erm- like Horcruxes except you don't split your soul... at least I don't think you do."

"Horcruxes?"

Harry stopped in his tracks, eying his mentor. "You're no-"

"Oh so you've found him!" The frizzy haired, dark skinned woman asked, she put her knitting a side.

"Tell me boy, how did you do _it_? _No one_ supposed to be able to apparate in, no one!"

"I didn't apparate here!" Harry scowled, why hadn't anyone believed him, and why did Dumbledore's hair have orange streaks in it?! "I was here all along!"

"I was dueling Bellatrix Lestrange right there!" Harry pointed to the still bloodied spot. "And then suddenly, everything was like- like this!" Harry waved his hands around wildly. "And you!" He pointed to Dumbledore. "Have been _d-dead_ for months!"

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Dumbledore repeated, "Harry, my boy, the only Lestranges that I know of are Phelan Lestrange, his wife Anthia Lestrange and their son, Perseus Lestrange."

"What?!" Harry shook his head. He knew very well that there were _two_ Lestrange brothers and they were both Death Eaters.

"Perhaps, you were transported into a different time?" The portrait pondered out loud.

"What?!" Harry yelped.

"Perhaps, although I know of no spell that could send a person through time." Dumbledore too seemed to be thinking out loud.

"Do you suppose he's from the future, since he did say that you were dead." The portrait pointed out. Harry glared at the two, irritated at the fact that they were talking about him like he wasn't even there.

"I wasn't hit by a time spell, at least I don't think so!" Harry exclaimed, trying to get their attention back.

"Harry, young Tom Riddle, the boy who helped you in that room back there, said that you were severely injured when he had found you."

"Yeah, well I think I was hit by a cutting curse as well."

"As well?" Dumbledore and the portrait inquired in unison.

"Well- our wands connected and then this happened and I guess sometime between our wands connecting and everybody disappearing I managed to get well... gashed up."

"Do you happen to know what spells you both were using."- Dumbledore

"Er, well when our wands connected she had used the Cruciatus and I tried to get her with the Sectumsempra curse."

The portrait gasped, "An unforgivable in _school_?! And from a student no less!"

"Er- well she isn't a student."

"A teacher tried to use and unforgivable on you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, a teacher?! No one in the right _**or **_wrong mind would let Bellatrix teach." Harry sighed, hoping that this was in fact the Dumbledore that he knew and loved. "She's a Death Eater."

"A Death Eater? What in the world is that?!" The portrait looked scandalized, she sat at the end of her rocking chair.

"Perhaps Harry, this conversation should held in a more private location." Dumbledore straightened up, glancing around. The portrait frowned at this. "Come now, we wouldn't want anyone hearing things that have not yet happened if you are indeed from another time."

Harry glanced around, noticing that most of the portraits' attention was fixed on him. "Alright right, sir."

"To my office then!" Dumbledore cheerfully led the way, Harry following next to him.

* * *

Harry was exhausted and in much pain when they reached the Transfiguration office. Dumbledore quickly transfigured a chair for the poor fellow and took a seat behind his desk. 

"Thanks," Harry dropped himself onto the plush chair, holding back a groan as a wound reopened.

"Tea? Lemon Drop?"

"No thanks." Harry glanced around the room. "Sir, where's Fawkes?"

"Fawkes? My dear boy, I have know idea what you're talking about."

"Fawkes, your phoenix..." Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps I have yet to acquire him." Dumbledore stood up and made for a chest. Dumbledore rummaged through the chest pulling out elaborate looking objects before pulling out a very familiar sword.

"Although, if my future counter part still has this, then this should suffice as evidence."

"Gryffindor's sword!" Harry jumped up, hissing in pain. "R-Ron takes that with him every where!"

"Ron?"

"Ron Weasley- he inherited it from you after you-"

"Harry, forgive me, but do not speak of the future."

"Why not professor?" Harry said, frowning. "Don't you want to know what happens? To stop it from ever happening?"

"Dealing with time travel is a tricky and dangerous thing. Things could turn out for the better or the worse."

"How can things get any worse?!"

"Harry, while you are here you must manage not to do anything too significant. It would be best if we both began immediately researching a way to get you back."

"But that could take months! Years!"

"Which is why we'll have to find a way to keep you out of trouble."

Harry slumped pathetically back into his chair. A sigh escaping his lips, "Fine, so what are you going to do with me?"

"Well, I need to keep an eye on you..." Dumbledore gave Harry a pensive look. "Though- extra help on grading all those essays would be excellent."

"Er- you want me to grade papers?" Harry asked, a horrified expression creeping up on his face.

"Well not only that, although I am in need of an assistant."

"So you want me to grade papers." Harry said again, in disbelief.

"Yes Harry, do you by any chance have your wand with you?"

"Er- the one I was battle with earlier is gone- but I have my original." Harry pulled out his wand from inside his robes.

"You have two wands?" Dumbledore asked, eyebrows raised. "No, don't tell me why. Although, I'd like to know more about the second curse you mentioned earlier."

"Sectumsempra, sir?"

"Yes, we need to know everything you have done before, during and after the battle. Then we can fire call Headmaster Dippet and discuss with him about your stay. Though we'll tell him nothing about your time traveling buisness."

"Er- am I still going to go by Harry Potter?"

"No, that would cause too much suspicion and a scandal." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "How about Harold Hare?"

"Harold Hare?" Harry scrunched his face up in distate. "Makes me sound like a story book character."

"Well it'll have to do, it's not as if you're going to go down into history books, Harry." Dumbledore placed the sword back and took a seat across from Harry. "Now, as to your history as 'Harold Hare'..."

* * *

Ha ha. I rather like Harry's new name. Oh imagine all the terrible nicknames that could come from that! (There's an actual reason why he has that name.) I suppose you guys can have a go at his name, maybe I'll use a couple in later chapters. And if you don't know what a hare is. It's like a rabbit, but tougher, they aren't born in burrows and they're born with their eyes open. Thus enabling them to fend for themselves at a young age. How did you like it? Too long, too short, too much information? Any suggestions? 

Harry and Tom will have some interaction in the next chapter.

I'll probably update on weekends, or a sickday or a holiday. (I attend school Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. and Fridays are half days so I have no energy or time to write during those days.) Though when vacations start I'll probably update more often. Although sometimes I might skip a weekend, but not on purpose, I tend to get sick often which usually puts me into the hospital (just a warning I will avoid this as much as possible!)


	3. Note to self: keep mouth shut

Sometimes the best thing is to just keep your mouth shut and stay away from the spot light. Although, if you're a Gryffindor this might be a wee bit of a challenge. With Gryffindors being reckless and all.

"Home schooled? Traveled through out Europe learning different magic?" Armando Dippet murmured while reading a very official looking letter supposedly from the Ministry. Harry was sitting next to Dumbledore, attempting to get an assistant position.

Lucky for him, Dumbledore had some robes that weren't so... eccentric. They were a turquoise color, with navy blue trim (Dumbledore helped him resize them with a few quick spells). Dumbledore promised to take him to Diagon Alley this Hogsmead weekend to buy him more clothes.

Harry bit his lip, giving Dumbeldore a worried sidelong glance. The man sat calmly, his hand clasped in lap. How could the man be so calm!?

What if Headmaster Dippet saw through their lie? The false letters, the background information, he would get caught and sent to Azkaban! He really wasn't up to the thought of living with Dementors for how ever long they make him stay there for.

"So Armando," Harry's snapped out of his day terror at the sound of his mentor's voice. "What do you think?

"Well Albus," Dippet began, "Since he is your cousin and his parents have..." He gave Harry a quick glance. "I suppose we could give him a chance."

Harry stared at Dippet unbelievingly. The man fell for it? The man fell for it. The man fell for it!! A smile broke out on his face. "Thank you, sir!" Harry said, taking hold of the Headmaster's hand and shaking it furiously. "Thank you very much!"

The man had no clue! He would go to Azkaban. He wouldn't face those creepy Dementors again. Thank Merlin!

"Well, Albus certainly does need the help." Dippet took back his hand, rubbing his wrist slightly. "I shall call up our best student to give you a tour and to show you to your rooms."

"Armando, that isn't necessary, I can-"

"Nonsense, Albus! The students are at dinner now aren't they?"

"It starts soon- but I assure you I can show Harold around me self."

"Ah, but why make Mr. Hare wait to meet our very best student! I'll inform the house elves of you're stay. Mister Riddle will meet you outside of the Great Hall after dinner to show you to your rooms. He'll have the day off tomorrow to show you around as well."

"I don't believe that's a wise idea, Armando." Dumbledore advised. "He'll get behind."

"Tom is our best student, he'll be able to catch up in no time."

"Very well, Armando." Dumbledore gave Harry and aplogetic look.

"Felyse!" Dippet called out. A flutter of wings was heard and a rather angry looking Long-Eared owl perched itself on the back of Dippet's chair. "Ah, there you are!" Dippet took a sheet of parchment, his quill scratching away at it. Once finished he rolled it up and tied it onto the owl's leg.

"Take this to Mr. Riddle," Armando said. He turned to Albus and Harry."Why don't you two head down to the Great Hall dinner will be starting soon."

-------

Tom Riddle sat on his bed staring at a page in his diary marked October 13. He had yet to write anything else. He just didn't know where to begin.

His mind kept wandering back to the raven haired boy that he found. He had found something semi interesting in this school and Dumbledore had to go and ruin it for him! Honestly, how often is it that you find a bloodied- half alive bloke in the middle of the safest place in all of the Wizarding World. About as often as a house elf asking for its freedom.

Oh the questions he had reeling through his mind. _Who are you. How did you get to the 7__th__ floor with out leaving a track of blood until then, how did you get in the state you were in._

"Tom!" A voice from behind his dorm room door called out. "Tom you there?! Are you coming down to dinner? Rumor has it that there's a new staff member! Handsome too," (This last part was said in a rather jealous sounding tone.)

Tom sighed. He glared at the door hoping that he could make the person behind it burst into fire. Alas, he could not.

"According to Olive Hornby. They say that he's an ex-spy for the Ministry, got caught by Grindelwald himself! Imagine -"

Tom stood up, straightening his robes before making his way to the door and yanking it open. He glared down at the babbling Slytherin.

"-what he knows! I wonder how he escaped him? He's go to be pretty powerful to escape the Dark Lord! Wonder what he looks like, you think he's all scarred up, or maybe he using glamor to-"

"Lestrange!" Tom gritted out. "Shut. Up."

"Sorry, Tom." Lestrange rubbed the back of his neck. "So you coming to dinner or not?"

"I suppose so, since I'm already up." Tom pushed passed Lestrange, making his way up to the common room. Lestrange following close behind.

"I hardly ever see you eat? How do you do it?"

Tom gave Lestrange a sidelong glance before answering, "I do eat, you just don't pay attention. How is it that you got into Slytherin when you're more Hufflepuff than anything else?"

"What?!" Lestrange cried out. "Hufflepuff?! I'm no Puff!"

"Well that's what you may say, but you surely don't act lik-"

Tom was interrupted when an irritated Long-eared owl landed on his shoulder. It's claws digging into Tom's shoulder rather painfully. Tom managed to suppress a wince.

"Oh hello, Felyse." Tom said to the owl. He took notice of the rolled up partchment attached to the owl's out stretched leg. "Thank you, Felyse" He untied the note and let the disgruntled owl go.

"Oooh, Who's that from?" Lestrange asked, trying to look over Tom's shoulder as he read it. "From a girl isn't it, Tom? Who is it,eh? Better not be from Olive."

"It's from Headmaster Dippet."

"Oh, damn." Lestrange frowned. "What's it 'bout."

"Nothing really, Dippet just wants me to show around Dumbledore's assistant."

"Assistant? When did Dumbledore get a new- OH! Oh it must to be the new staff member!"

"Yes, now lets head down for dinner, can't have the Dumbledore's pet waiting."

-------

Headmaster Dippet introduced Harold Hare at the beginning of dinner. Harry received a few claps and cheers. The Gryffindors seemed to take an immediate liking to him since he would be working with Professor Dumbledore, their head of house, so the man couldn't be too bad now could he? The Slytherins and Ravenclaws looked on at him with disdain and suspicion. The Hufflepuffs looked excited and seemed to have been exchanging ideas of what he would be like.

All this attention made Harry want to hide under the table. Their staring, pointing, oogling and suspicious glances were overwhelming him. But instead he stayed seated, his head bent down so that the only thing in his view was the plate of food.

"Are you alright?" Dumbledore's concerned voice broke Harry out of his glaring contest with the food on the plate in front of him. "You look a bit pale."

"Er- I'm fine,sir. I'm just a bit... er.. nervous."

"About the raging sea of students right before us or is it something else?"

"Mainly the raging sea of students..." Harry avoided looking at the students seated at the tables in front of him. "And I'm a bit tired from what happened earlier."

"Ah, nothing a pepper up potion couldn't fix. Perhaps you should go to Madam Blythe after dinner."

"Is she the medi-witch?" Harry guessed. Dumbledore nodded. "Oh... er Professor, is there anyway I can get out of getting that tour from Vo-Riddle? I mean I already know my way around the school."

"We can't raise any suspicion, Harry."

"Damn."

"Albus!" A familiar voice called out. Harry and Dumbledore both turned to see who it was. Harry let out a pained groan. "Armando says that you've acquired an assistant! Oh! This young man must be him!"

"Good Evening, Horace. This is my new assistant Harold Hare. Harry this is Horace Slughorn."

Harry's hand was immediately yanked about by the fat man.

"Pleasure to meet you. The portraits are saying that you've apparated in, is it true?

"Apparate into Hogwarts? Isn't that impossible to do?" Harry asked, hoping the Head of Slytherin wouldn't see right through him.

"Oh er- well yes. Though the portraits said that you apparated right into the 7th floor. Cross from Madam Bonker's portrait! Suppose they could bored and are wanting to start some sort of Drama through the school. No doubt the portraits have alright told half the school about that."

"Honestly Horace, I never knew you were one to delight in gossip." Dumbledore interjected.

"Gossip, no, no. I was just curious..." Slughorn turned back to Harry. "So Mr. Hare-"

"Harry, call me Harry."

"Very well, Harry. I was wondering if you would like to stop by my little club."

"Club, sir?" Surely the man wouldn't ask another staff member to join. Wasn't the Slug club for students?"

"Yes, The Slug Club, so I can introduce you to some of our finest students."

"Er... I'm not sure, Sir, Pr-Albus needs a lot of help with all those essays and parchments and stuff that need to be graded."

"Ah yes, but I the Potion's Professor at this school has to deal with much more- oh oh why Albus would mind if I burrowed him from time to time. Your skills in Potions are well right, Harry?"

"Er- actually I'm terrible at potions."

"Oh, no matter, I suppose you could grade a few thing, that is if Albus doesn't mind."

"I wouldn't want to wear Harry out," Dumbledore said. "You should see how you can handle the first few days with the work I'll be giving you before accepting, we wouldn't want to wear you out."

"Ah yes. Then let me know when you're available."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said, feeling very tired. "I would really like to be excused and shown my rooms but I'm supposed to wait until after dinner, do you think you could convince Professor Dippet if he would let me go early to find my rooms."

"By yourself? Nonsense! I'll find Mr. Riddle myself and have him show you to your rooms." Slughorn took off to the Slytherin table.

Harry groaned and looked up to the enchanted ceiling, as if begging god to save him from what's to come. Nothing saved him because as soon as he looked down he saw Professor Slughorn and Tom bleeding Riddle making their way up to the High Table. Harry stood up.

"Harry, this is Tom Riddle, the best and brightest student of his year. Tom this is Harry Hare."

'_Don't punch him, Don't hex him, don't do anything semi homicidal to him! Actually don't do _anything_ to him!!_' "Er- hello." Harry said lamely taking hold of Tom's outstretched hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riddle." '_Damn it you shook his hand! That is doing something!_'

"The pleasure's mine, sir." Tom said politely, his face portraying an annoying innocence.

"Well I'll leave you to show Harry around." Slughorn said, leaving the two boys.

Harry heaved a sigh, He turned to Dumbledore, "Goodnight, P-Albus."

"Goodnight, Harry. I'll see you in the morning at my office to further discuss what we had earlier."

"Yes of course."

With that he followed the 5th year Slytherin out of the Great Hall.

----

The walk though the first floor was tense and quiet. Quiet that is until Riddle opened his filthy hypocritical mouth. Harry felt his self control dwindle with each word that came out of it.

"I see you didn't use that salve I handed you."

"Er- yeah well just the shock from seeing an old relative after so long kinda made me forget about healing salves." Harry said cautiously.

"You had to apply that immediately. Those large gashes you had are going to scar now."

"Fantastic. Just what I needed, more scars!" Harry murmured under his breath, unfortunately Tom had heard him say this .

"More scars? Oh you mean like that one on your forehead."

Harry's hand immediately when to brushing his hair over the offending scar. "Er- yeah."

"That's a rather angry looking scar, is it a recent one?"

"Er- No."

"Really? Oh, what's that on your hand? 'I must not tell-'"

Harry pulled his sleeve over his hand, glaring at the future Dark Lord. "It doesn't _say_ anything."

"You sure do have a lot of scars, Mr. Hare." Riddle stated in a monotone voice. "What is it that you did before you came here? You couldn't have done much, you look the same age as me."

"The same age? I'm 17 thank you very much and you're what? 15?"

"Yes, I am actually."

"So yeah there's a 2 year age difference, I could have done lots of things."

"But at 17 a person is usually still in school. Or finishing up."

"Well I was home schooled, so I learned everything already."

"That still doesn't answer the scars."

"Why do you need to know 'bout them!?" _Don't attack him Harry, don't do it. You don't want to end up in Azkaban do you? _

"Well they make you look awfully suspicious, Mr. Hare." Tom stopped walking. "So far the portraits sound far more believable that you."

"And what exactly are they saying?" Harry glanced around, noticing the painting of blond haired witch inspecting skulls. "Wait- _where_ are we?"

"Your rooms, Sir. _Hippogriff_." The portrait regarded them for a moment, mumbling something about mudbloods and their poor etiquette before swinging open. "Good night."

"Wait!" Harry grabbed Riddle by the arm, pulling him back. "I know what you're up to! I know what you're looking for, and I won't let you – I won't let you find it! Ever!"

Riddle's eyes were focused on the hand tightly gripping his arm. He looked down at Harry, studying the other boy's face closely. He moved closer to Harry.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Harry letting go of Riddle's arm and backing away, into his rooms.

Tom followed, "Who ever said I was looking for anything?"

* * *

I got a little out of character in this, sorry. Being sleepy and sick isn't a good mix when writing. I'll try harder next time. 

I would like to thank WildChipmunkofYonder for the wonderful advice and the explanation on wha Marysue is. :D I think I'll take her advice on getting a Beta (Hopefully someone who has better English skills then me!)

So if you'd like to, let me know in a review. (I'm guessing that with Beta's, I e-mail the draft to them and they edit it and send it back and then I upload it, right?)

Oh! In the story, it's currently Wednesday October 13, 1943.


	4. The Place Of Which We Know Of Not!

Chapter 4

The place of which we know of not!

----

Harry continued to back up until he hit a wall, Tom being only a foot away.

"Well?" Tom said, closing the small gap so that they were only two inches away from each other. Tom watched Hare with amusement as the other boy tried to come up with an answer. "What is it that I'm looking for?"

"Er- your parents?" Harold said as his face showed that he was just remembering something.

"Parents?" Tom said, bending his head forward to close the gap between them even more, his arms leaning against the wall, trapping Hare. Hare was in visible distress, obviously not liking the few inch gap between them.

"Yeah- erm – a Professor told me you were an orphan and that you were looking for your parents- your father actually." Harold glanced around the spartan room, most likely trying to find a way out of this sticky situation he put himself into. Tom smirked, Dumbledore's new assistant was so easy, there was no way the rumors were true. An auror or an ex-spy would never been this open.

"How rude of them to speak of me behind my back." Tom paused to notice Hare staring at the ceiling next to his head. He moved his head so that Harold was looking into his eyes, but the boy quickly fixed his stare onto Tom's lips."Now Mr Hare, why won't you let me find my father?"

Hare closed his eyes, and took a deep shaky breath. "Er- It's getting quite late- you ought to get to bed before curfew." Harold tried to squirm out of the Tom's trap, surprising Tom with the sudden burst of confidence.

Tom tried to keep Harold up against the wall, "It's still dinner, plus I'm a prefect, I still have to make my rounds." Though it became difficult and Hare soon was by the gray leather couch, a whole ten feet away from him.

"Well you shouldn't be in a staff member's personal quarters, it's inappropriate." Harold tried another excuse, looking everywhere else but Riddle.

"How would that be, it's not as if we are in some sort of an affair."

Hare turned a bit green. "Your _friends_ will miss you." Tom noted Hare's clenched fists, his chest was rising and falling faster.

"They can wait..." Tom tried to get near Hare again, but the other kept stepping away. "You never answered my question."

"What question?" Hare tried to force out in a calm, nonchalant tone, but his true feelings were still relayed. Hare seemed to be losing his self control. "I don't remember you asking a question."

"Why you wouldn't want me to ever meet my father."

"I- I just-" Harold paused, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "I just don't want you to be disappointed in what you find. Not having to ever actually known him, you come up with this image of the perfect father in your head. Then when you actually see what he was like, it's like you've been hit with a rock in the face. It hurts. A lot."

Tom stood there for a moment, silent. Just staring at the other teen, processing what he had just said. _"_Well it's a bit late for that advice." Tom watched Harold a bit before continuing. "I've already met him, he wasn't what I... expected. Though, I won't be seeing him again... not so soon at least."

Harry's eyes had reopened and had gone impossibly wide. It irked Tom, it was almost like he knew what he was thinking, even without actually diving into his mind. Perhaps there was some truth behind all those silly rumors. Some.

"Well, I'd best be going." Tom passed closely by Hare, brushing his hand against the other boy's "Goodnight, sir." Tom barely heard Harold's hoarse 'G'night' as he walked out the portrait hole.

--------

"Eeeeek" Harry jumped at the shrill scream. He spun around, breathing rather harshly, to see a house elf staring bug eyed at him. "Master Hare has already arrived! Master Hare has arrived before Sashe and Mixa could finish cleaning Master Hare's quarters! Why is Master Hare here?!"

"I- I'm tired, sorry." Harry said, " Is my bedroom done? You could do the rest while I'm asleep."

The elf continued to look horrified at him. "Master's bedroom is done, Mixa is in there right now placing doxyballs in the drawers. Master will have to wait."

"Please... just call me Harry."

The elf gasped. "But-"

"Don't protest and don't ask why, just do it. Call me Harry." Harry let out a sigh. "Is there any chance you could get me a dreamless sleep potion, a calming potion and a mild healing potion?"

"Mixa can do that for you!" Another house elf popped out of no where. "Mixa would be happy to get that for the young master."

"Harry." Harry said eying the overly happy elf. "Call me Harry. I don't want any fancy names, I'm not special, I'm normal, an equal."

"Oh- but Harold Hare _is_ special, you've traveled here from far away to save us from the Dark Lord!" Mixa grinned.

Harry twitched. "What?"

"Yes! Master Hare has traveled from the unknown and came here to change our dark future!" Sashe said, nodding enthusiastically. "If Harold Hare wishes for something, we shall happily grant it!"

"Yes! Yes!" Mixa, still grinning, hopped up and down.

Harry stared at the two elves, "What do you mean from the '_unknown_'"

"The place of which we know of not!" Sashe said. "Sashe and Mixa will fetch Master Harry a healing, sleeping and calming potion now!"

Both elves disappeared with a snap of their fingers leaving Harry alone and extremely worried.

---------

Upon Tom's arrival at the Slytherin Common Room, he was bombarded with questions, most from the female population of the house.

"Tom!" A red haired girl sitting on a leather couch jumped up when he came in. She rushed to his side, a hoard of girls following behind her. "So, what's he like?"

"Did you find out anything?" Asked a blond behind her.

"Are the rumors true?" - another girl asked.

"Yeah, is he a spy?" - An older busty student asked.

"Never mind that!" A voice belonging to a dark haired fellow said as he plowed his way through the mob of women, stopping directly in front of Tom. "So, does he have a nice arse?"

The common room grew silent, most everybody stared at the teen as if he'd declare his love for a three headed Gryffindor. Tom crossed his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow at the question that came out of the only male Slytherin in the mob before him.

"And why are you so curious about what Hare's arse looks like, Black?" Tom asked, a smirk gracing his face. "And here I thought you fancied Hornby."

"Well I'm checking the competition is all, can't be unprepared, he could steal one of my girls." Black reasoned out, trying to fight back the pink color that stained his face.

"Right, well I didn't think his arse was important at the time so I don't know." Tom said before making his way to the boys dorms.

"Hmpf. Didn't even answer a single question!" The red headed said after a moment. "Bloody mudbloods, no help they are."

"Oy, he's not that bad! I mean once you get around that sexy cold exterior, I bet there's one cuddly love muffin." Black put in, leering.

The girls started at him. "Are you sure you don't fancy the wonders of the male body?" One of them asked.

"Yeah, Black." Another started, "We don't mind if you fancy Riddle or Hare." Most of the girls agreed.

"Yeah! As long as we get to watch!" Another said excitedly.

"I- what?" Black's face fell. "No- I-I'm not- no, you've got all wrong!" But Black didn't get the chance to explain what he actually meant because the hoard of Slytherin girls quickly dissipated, leaving him all alone. "Women." He murmured, shaking his head before walking away.

------

The next day (Thursday, October 14th), Tom was woken quite early by a bothersome raven, for a meeting with Slughorn. Tom knocked on when he Slughorn's door.

"Come in." Slughorn called.

"You asked for me, Professor?" Tom asked once he stepped foot into the Potions Lab. Slughorn was sitting behind his desk, scribbling away on a parchment. The potions professor set down his quill as soon as he heard Tom's voice.

"Ah, Tom! Yes, yes I have." Slughorn said, picking up a thin vial off his desk and gesturing him to come closer. "So my boy, did you find anything out about our mysterious Mister Hare?"

Eying the vial that Slughorn held in his hand, Tom said, "I wasn't aware I was appointed such a task, sir."

"Oh? Then why don't we make this an extra credit assignment?" Professor Slughorn stood up, moved around his desk and stood in front of Tom. "I would like to know as much as possible about this Hare fellow, I am even willing to provide some '_help_' if needed." Professor Slughorn slipped the vial into Tom's hands.

Tom held it up, examining the contents. "A love potion."

"Yes, though I wouldn't recommend you dosing him with it yourself."

"And the effects?" Tom asked.

"It's a mild love potion, it will only last twenty minutes or so. It will cause the victim to wish to do anything for their 'love' in order to make them happy."

Tom nodded, slipping the vial into a pocket of his robes. "Thank you, sir. But I must get going."

"Yes, you have to tour him now don't you? Perhaps you could get something out of him then." Professor Slughorn said. "Well I better go find Headmaster, I need permission to leave for Diagon Alley to restock my supplies. Until later, Tom."

-----

Tom ventured over to Hare's rooms. Only to encounter the very grumpy, but beautiful portrait from last night. He was about to ask for Hare but the moment he opened his mouth to talk the portrait rudely cut in.

"There's no use in fetching him, mudblood." The portrait said, looking down her nose at him.

"I've been appointed to show him around." Tom glared at the animated woman.

"Yes but he's with that wizard with the obnoxious robes, Dumblydoor." She picked up a mirror and began fussing with her hair.

"Dumbledore, you mean?"

"Yes, that one." The woman nodded. "Been with him since four in the morning."

"Four?" Tom's eyebrows raised. "My, that's a bit early."

"Well, he was making such a racket, having a night terror I assume. Screaming something about Cedric, Sirius and a Professor."

"A night terror? Cedric, Sirius and a Professor?"

"Yes, he was so loud that I do believe the Fat Lady heard him. Even Peeves heard him, he was the one to fetch Dumblydoor. It was quite a scene really, Peeves began wailing on about Grindelwald's Nazi army..."

"Right." Tom said, he tuned her out, trying imagine what Hare could have dreamed that was so horrific? He interrupted the animated witch in mid sentence, saying a quick farewell before making his way to the transfiguration office.

He was about to knock when he arrived outside of the office, but caught the sound of Hare's smooth voice. Though what really caught his attention was what Hare and Dumbledore were talking about. A sinister grin appeared on the boy's face as he pressed his ear against the door.

* * *

**A/N:**

Wow, I have been in and out of the hospital for a while now. I've been back for a week but I've never gotten around to updating this. Sorry about that and hopefully you'll be able to forgive me.

Thanks for the reviews, watches, favs, and c2s.

See you all soon!


End file.
